


A Different Kind Of Research

by Kendrene



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alpha Nicole Haught, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/F, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Mentions of attempted sexual abuse, Omega Waverly Earp, Soft Nicole Haught
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 00:10:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20844338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrene/pseuds/Kendrene
Summary: It's Waverly's last summer in Purgatory before she leaves for college, and she is determined to get laid. But the alpha dating pool is quite shallow - to put it mildly - and so she turns to online apps. Enter Nicole Haught with whom Waverly instantly falls in love... but of course she doesn't know it yet...





	A Different Kind Of Research

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say - I have a Wayhaught itch to scratch....
> 
> Hope you will enjoy.
> 
> \- Dren

“Oh, and one last thing-” Gus hollered from inside the pick-up truck for her to get a move on, but Wynonna ignored their aunt, one foot wedged between the front door and its frame so that Waverly couldn’t simply shut her out.

“I know,” Waverly cut her sister short, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “No parties.”

“Yes. That. And no inviting random alphas inside the house, neither.” 

“Unlike other members of our family, Wynonna, I can keep it in my pants.” 

“Hey!” Wynonna’s expression was faux-indignant, and Waverly stuck out her tongue. She couldn’t wait to see the truck grow small and disappear around the bend in the road at the bottom of the hill. She and her sister loved each other dearly, but lately, Wynonna had grown even more protective than Gus, and that was saying something.  _ Don’t dally beyond the train tracks after dark. Don’t talk to this or that alpha. _ As if Waverly would ever be inclined to chat up any of the pig-headed idiots who made up the vast majority of Purgatory’s alpha population. 

She wanted to get laid, but a girl had to have standards. 

Wynonna reached out to squeeze her shoulder. Her brows had knitted into a frown, her expression now utterly serious.

“I mean it, Waves. Some of the alphas in town think they can just…”

“...Take whatever they want? I’m aware, Wynonna.” She’d been aware throughout her tenure at Purgatory High, which had been - to put it mildly - miserable. Waverly swallowed another snide remark and softened her tone. 

“Don’t worry too much, okay? I have food for the weekend, and the ranch to tend to while you and Gus are gone. Plus, I’ve got all the books I wanted to read from the library already, so I have no need to set foot into town.” 

“Okay.” Wynonna awkwardly patted her shoulder, then took her hand away, seemingly pretending it had never rested there in the first place. For all that she played the cool, tough alpha, there was softness inside her if one knew where to look. Wynonna may succeed in hiding it from others, but Waverly knew better. 

“It’s just- You’re off to college this fall, and I don’t want…”

“I know, Wynonna.” 

“Alright.” 

Gus yelled again, loud enough to raise the dead, and they both snorted. 

“You should head out before she bursts an artery.” Waverly leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on her sister’s cheek. “Promise you’ll call when you get there?” 

“Who’s worrying too much now?” Wynonna teased, but nodded. “The Expo is just beyond the county line, and if we didn’t need new equipment so badly, I…” 

“Oh, will you just go on already? At this rate, it will be over before you even get there.”

“Fine, fine! I’m going!” 

Duffle bag slung over a shoulder, Wynonna hopped down from the top step of the porch and made her way to the truck. Every few steps, she would turn and throw another admonishing look Waverly’s way, but finally she was climbing into the pick-up and driving off in a spray of loose gravel. 

Waverly stood on the porch until the truck was a barely visible glint of chrome and blue against the horizon, then headed back inside and locked the door.

There she paused, back pressed against the worn, warped wood, and took a deep breath that seemed to go on forever. 

Along with the air, she breathed the house in: the creaks and groans of the aged wood, the rattle of the windows as the prairie wind beat against the glass, the  _ scritch-scratch _ of the parliament of barn owls Gus had failed to chase from the attic the previous winter. 

It was hard to believe she’d be leaving it all behind after the summer. Off to college like Wynonna had said, and while the University of Alberta wasn’t actually all that far, it felt like an entire universe away. One last blazing stretch of summer, and then Waverly would reach it. 

Her leaving for a big city was what had Wynonna so wound up, at least in part. Gus worried, too, but her way of doing so was quiet and discreet. Her aunt would hover on the doorway to her bedroom when she thought Waverly was too engrossed in her books to notice, and she’d taken to teaching her all sorts of chores around the house. Chores which Waverly had been doing for years, but she hadn’t had the heart to remind her aunt she was more than capable of looking after herself. If cramming every family recipe into her head could put Gus’s mind at ease, Waverly would go along with the charade. 

As for Wynonna’s worrying, it had grown worse after Curtis had passed, just at the tail end of winter. 

Waverly’s heart did a funny thing, and she pressed a hand to her chest, sighing softly. 

That was another thing she couldn’t wrap her mind around still, even more so than the fact she was truly leaving Purgatory behind. 

Her mind played the same trick on her each morning: she’d wake up and amble her way downstairs still half-asleep, expecting to find her uncle sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee in his hand and a plate of eggs in front of him. The chair was, of course, empty, but even then, Waverly’s brain didn’t quite believe.  _ He’s watering the garden. Or in the stable, feeding the horses.  _

It would hit her while she walked to the fridge to get milk for her cereal, the same way every morning. Her eyes would wander out the window, to the old oak tree he was buried under, and reality would sink into her heart like the sharpest of knives. 

“Alright, Waves. Get a grip.” 

Swallowing down the lump that had formed in her throat, Waverly walked back to the kitchen. She had a couple of hours to get herself and the house ready before her… date.

Purgatory was full of alphas, but finding one Waverly could picture losing her virginity to had been a hassle. It had taken Waverly days of research - thank fuck the Knots app existed, because Wynonna had the annoying habit of stealing her laptop to watch Netflix, and how could she have justified her browsing history? - and exposure to more dick pics than she cared to count. 

_ More cock than I ever thought I’d see in my entire life, honestly.  _ Narrowing her search down to people who actually knew what the words profile picture meant had helped, as had discarding all the users with nicknames like “xXUltimateAlphaDomXx” or “King_of_cum69”. 

The best one - or worst, depending on one’s perspective - had been Champ’s chosen screen name. Any sane person would have backed out of that profile at the speed of light, but despite the queasiness that clammed her palms with sweat, Waverly couldn’t stop herself from browsing. Reading through the load of bullcrap he’d listed on his page had been like watching a car accident unfold. Horrifying, but in a riveting sort of way. 

_ Alpha Lord. The biggest knot in town. _

“Yeah, you wish.”

As she put away the dishes, Waverly snorted. 

Just when she’d reached the conclusion she would have to look for somebody once she’d made it to Edmonton, Waverly had stumbled across a promising profile. 

At first she’d simply sat on it, the fact that this alpha was a woman giving her a little pause. 

If asked, she wouldn’t have been able to explain exactly why, except perhaps that she’d never thought about another girl  _ that way _ , but Waverly had just as quickly recognized she had no valid reason  _ not to _ . 

And frankly, there was something about the way Nicole - she’d whispered the name like she could taste it, and almost dropped her phone - there was something in her smile and in her eyes that made Waverly want to stare at her profile pic indefinitely.

She had agonized for hours over an icebreaker, and even more as she waited for a reply. But, after that first awkward exchange, things had moved fast, in a way that had surprised her. 

Nicole was easy to talk to, funny, smart, and it had been so natural to lose herself in their conversations that more than once Waverly had looked up from her phone, only to find out that they had chatted the entire night away. 

Two weeks into what was becoming a solid friendship, Waverly had asked Nicole if she would come over, and told her why. The alpha had taken a long time to answer, so long in fact, that Waverly had been afraid she’d driven her friend off.  _ Yes.  _ Nicole had typed after an age.  _ I’ll see you tomorrow.  _

There had been more, or at least Waverly thought so, because the app had blinked “Nicole is typing” for a while, but she got no other messages. She was dying to know what Nicole wanted to say, but it was fair for the woman to keep some of the thoughts that must be racing through her mind to herself until they met.

_ It’s not like I’ve told her the whole truth either,  _ because that meant making herself vulnerable and Waverly had spent years trying to be the opposite of it, _ but that can wait until she’s here. And that’s…  _ Waverly’s eyes sought out the big, ugly clock that hung above the kitchen doorway, which none of them had had the courage to throw out because it was Uncle Curtis who put it up there. 

“Two hours??” Waverly wailed, eyes almost popping from their sockets. “How the heck did that happen?” 

_ Shitsticks, but I thought I had more time. _

She went through the rest of the house like a whirlwind, tidying things that didn’t need it even though there was very little chance Nicole would see anything other than her bedroom. 

Once she got there, breath ragged from having raced up the steps, Waverly’s mood worsened. With its blue curtains hemmed in lace and the oversized stuffed unicorn sitting proudly in the middle of her twin bed, the bedroom belonged to a younger her. The same one who’d thought that plastering one wall with pictures of Sarah Michelle Gellar in her Buffy attire would make for great interior decor. 

But Waverly wasn’t that girl anymore. She was a grown woman now.  _ A woman who’ll still be in her pajamas when Nicole turns up, if you don’t get a move on!  _ her inner voice reminded her, prompting her into action.

There was little to be done about the bedroom, but Waverly tried. The unicorn, she stashed on the top shelf inside her closet, and she changed the sheets, swapping the pastel colored ones she’d slept in for a dark blue set she had bought for the occasion.

“At least they match the curtains,” Waverly muttered, surveying the result of her efforts. If she drew the curtains and lit a few candles, the atmosphere would definitely improve.  _ At least I hope. _

One hot shower later, and Waverly was back in the bedroom, several outfits laid out on the bed. Not someone to leave such an important decision to the last minute, she’d already narrowed down what she would wear the night before, but the satin lingerie and matching negligee seemed too much all of a sudden. 

The sheer, not quite see-through fabric was nice on her skin - whispery and light - but, while Waverly twisted this way and that to get a better look into the mirror, she found the way it hugged the curve of her ribcage and pushed up her breasts way too revealing.

She looked exactly like one of the girls that worked at Pussy Willows, the strip joint beyond the old railroad, and one of the many places on Wynonna’s ever growing “keep away from” list. 

Not that Waverly  _ actually  _ knew what a stripper looked like, because she  _ totally  _ hadn’t snuck out one night after everyone had gone to sleep, to go and see for herself what the big fuss was about.

In her mind, it was the sort of place only worldly people frequented - men in suits behind the wheel of sports cars worth five times their farm, and women in vertiginous heels with laughs that cut like glass. The aura of dark mystery and glamour she’d associated with the strip club evaporated the moment she stepped past the train tracks. 

A tired neon sign showed the way to the entrance, where a stocky alpha wearing a black tee and ripped jeans scowled into the night, but the parking lot was half empty and the cars she recognized belonged to people she’d grown up around. Some of whom she never suspected would come to such a place.

Waverly kept out of the light and made her way around the back, stopping when she found a promising-looking window. It had been left open, if only just a crack, but it was enough for a musky, unpleasant smell to drift outside. Rancid spunk and lubricant and enough omega fear to make her want to vomit the casserole Gus had cooked up for dinner.

Venturing there had been a mistake, but even though she told herself as much, Waverly crept forward. Just one peek inside, and she would go. With an unhappy turn of the mouth, she tried to silence the small but insistent voice reminding her it was curiosity that killed the cat. 

She glimpsed a girl slow-dancing atop a table, hips swaying to the vibrating bass of a song she didn’t recognize. Several alphas crowded around her, and in the club’s pulsing lights, their cheeks were hollowed out, their mouths open and starving. 

Suddenly one of the men reached out and ripped the dancer’s skirt to shreds. She screamed - it was a shrill sound, like that of a fox getting wind of bloodhounds on the chase - but Waverly hadn’t seen what happened next. She was running blindly, past the tracks and the stretch of forest that darkened the hills beyond, falling and getting up, but never stopping - no matter how much her body ached. 

The next morning, it had been hard to justify her split lip, and she’d been left with the guilty feeling that Wynonna didn’t believe one word of her excuse. 

Waverly shrugged out of the lingerie much faster than she’d put it on and kicked the offending garments underneath the bed. It was a cheap Victoria’s Secret knock-off anyhow, and Nicole would surely laugh if she saw her wearing it. 

Waverly’s other options weren’t nearly as provocative, and while she was definitely more accustomed to cotton than lace and satin, the rest of her lingerie was also far plainer. Then again, it was all she had; with less than an hour to go until Nicole arrived, she had no time to ride her bike to Purgatory’s only Walmart and search for an alternative.

Besides, at least two of Gus’s canasta friends worked in the clothing department, and with Waverly’s luck, her aunt would learn of any  _ unusual _ purchase within a fortnight. The women meant well, she knew, but sometimes she felt like she had acquired a gaggle of overprotective relatives.

There was an undeniable comfort to be found in the fact that every store clerk across town greeted her like she was family, but at times, the familiarity could become a little suffocating. Uncle Curtis had been a staple of the community – a mantle that Gus readily picked up when spending so much time alone on the Homestead became too much – and the town’s goodwill was extended to “his” girls by proximity. Well, mostly just to  _ her _ . Wynonna was deemed too similar to their father by some – including a few of their aunt’s god-fearing friends – but most of their acquaintances were all too happy to forget the Earp name when it came to Waverly.

_ Wonder what they would make of me hooking up with some alpha I just met. _

It wasn’t all that hard to imagine, really. For an omega, it was easy to fall from the pedestal of honor student down to _whore _and _slut_. That very thing had happened to Chrissy after prom, and she was _Sheriff _Nedley’s daughter. All it took to ruin her reputation was an evening of hanging out with the wrong crowd and a knot-headed alpha jock turning one kiss into something more obscene. And she, unlike the Earps, _had_ a reputation to start with. The more Chrissy denied the rumors, the more they’d grown, and some even reached her father. 

To Randy Nedley’s credit, he’d believed her when she told him her version of the events, but there was little he could do about it. The boy in question was Judge Cryderman’s son, and nothing in Purgatory happened without the man’s permission. Which, in turn, meant that Chad Cryderman could say whatever he wanted about what had happened between him and Chrissy behind the bleachers without repercussions. 

That wasn’t the only reason why prom was horrible, but the rest Waverly tried not to think about. The intrusive thoughts she managed to suppress, but not the sudden chill that raised unpleasant goosebumps on her arms and slimed the palms of her hands with cold sweat.

People said Wynonna was “easy,” too. But for an alpha, that was almost like a badge of honor. Gus was none too happy about her niece’s ill repute, but in Waverly’s opinion, Wynonna never had the chance to be something other than their family’s black sheep. If her sister was bothered by it, she had never let it show, and there were certain things the two of them simply didn’t talk about. Their past came with a lot of baggage. 

But Nicole wasn’t a stranger, was she? 

_ You’ve never met her, a _ raspy voice whispered in her ear. Underneath the  _ thump-thump _ of her heart, the words were slurred and thick with the vowels obscenely distended. The consonants pointed, like barbed wire.  _ She  _ is  _ a stranger, and you are a burden who can’t keep her legs closed. Fucking whore, just like your mother.  _ Waverly recognized her father’s voice, now dripping with all the poison that alcohol imbued in him. He had always been like that after a night of heavy drinking, tossing his words at them like they were the bullets from his favorite revolver. Contrition would come alongside daylight, and Ward would cry and hug them, and for a little while, they’d be like a real family. But - eventually - the bottle lured him back. 

“Stop thinking about it,” Waverly muttered at her reflection in the mirror. “Just. Stop.” 

She ought to finish getting ready and allow herself to feel excitement. Nicole was kind and  _ hot  _ and, honestly, more than she had a right to hope for. A tremulous, dreamy smile dawned on her lips. 

Nicole was-

The shrill sound of the doorbell sliced through the quiet. 

Nicole was  _ early _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Want more? Follow me [on TUMBLR](https://kendrene.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [or find me on TWITTER](https://twitter.com/Kendrene17/)


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